


By the Sea

by Pepper_Sanders



Series: Rosander/Sobbe Headcanons, Ficlets, Dribbles & Drabbles [1]
Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21596065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pepper_Sanders/pseuds/Pepper_Sanders
Summary: A short ficlet I posted on Tumblr after Robbe and Sander first meet.
Relationships: Rosander, Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans, Sobbe
Series: Rosander/Sobbe Headcanons, Ficlets, Dribbles & Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1568383
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	By the Sea

Sander is nervous. Why is he so fucking nervous? He combs his fingers through his white-blonde hair and straightens his shirt. He’d seen Robbe leave for the beach as they were pulling up to the house. Robbe had been looking at his phone, biting at the corner of his lip. He looked worried about something or someone, and Sander instinctively wanted to smooth out the corners of his mouth where it had gone pinched and tight. He wanted to make him smile, exorcise whatever demons seemed to be riding him down.

He’d stood at the door until he’d seen him heading back from the beach. This was it. He’d noticed Robbe a few weeks ago with Noor, but Robbe hadn’t seen him then. He’d passed him at the skate park a few days later, and Robbe had noticed him that time, but Sander had been too chickenshit to do anything about it. There had been other moments that he had let slip through his cowardly fingers, but not this time. He would push through his doubts this time…no matter the outcome. From the first moment he’d seen him, he hadn’t been able to get him out of his head. He finally learned his name from Britt, and had spent days tasting the letters on his tongue, saying it out loud as he smiled a soft smile. Shit, he thought to himself, he already had it bad.

He stood in the kitchen for what seemed like an eternity, but was only a few minutes, waiting for Robbe’s return. Britt had been tired when they arrived, so she was resting in one of the bedrooms. The house was silent, although the sounds of seagulls could be heard faintly in the distance. And then, one: Robbe turns the corner, two: Sander’s heart skips a beat and there’s a flutter in his belly, the same one he felt when he saw him weeks before, three: he turns, busying himself in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinet doors like a mad poltergeist. Should he say something about the weather? No, that would be lame. But now the door is opening and he’s out of time.

There’s Robbe, sandy brown hair and that look, like he’s holding himself tight and straining at the seams. Sander knows that feeling; it’s like too-tight shoes, except the calluses erupt on the heart and soul. But Sander has caught glimpses of something wild and free in Robbe, little stolen glances or smiles when he thinks no one is looking. And Sander wants to make him smile and laugh now, ease that pinched look from his face if only for a minute. He needs to get him away from the house and its sleeping inhabitants and whatever dark thoughts are causing that pinched look, so he takes a deep breath.

“Hey,” Robbe says. Sander has a voice now to put with those eyes and that face, and it flusters him a little, but he’s perfected outward control in the face of internal chaos. He’s had years and years of painful practice.

“Do you know where I can find the coffee?” Sander asks. He just manages to keep a straight face but his heart is in his throat now, and dammit, Bowie is playing in his head.


End file.
